Long Live the French
by Corky the Quirk
Summary: Steven Meeks finally receives a long awaited phone call.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** Um, to be honest, I'm not really sure where this came from, and I don't even know if it makes sense...

**Disclaimer: **DPS-not mine

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Steven Meeks rushed to the phone. He had barely stepped through the door of his cozy apartment when he'd heard it ring.

"Hello?" he gasped out after tripping on the edge of the rug.

"Word has it you've been worrying about me."

Closing his eyes, Steven took a deep breath, plopping down on the floor and pulling the phone onto his lap. "Damn it, Charlie. Where the hell have you been?"

"Out and about."

"You realize you're still enrolled at Harvard, right?"

"Harvard shmarvard. I've been practically raised at the bank since day one. What can business classes really teach me?"

Steven rubbed at his temples in exhaustion. "You can't just drop out of Harvard, Charlie; your dad's going to kill you."

"Well at least then I'll be spared from having to work under his thumb for the rest of my life…or until he croaks."

Steven rolled his eyes. "Well can you at least come over and help me get ready for a date? I have no clue what I'm doing and I really want to impress her."

"Is this date a robot?"

"No, Charlie. It's with an actual girl."

"Well I didn't know for sure, Meeks. I had to check. And you're going to have to figure it out for yourself anyway. I'm in France."

"…you're what?"

"I'm in France."

Steven nearly choked on his own spit. "You don't even know how to ask where the bathroom is in French!"

Charlie scoffed on the other side of the line. "No, but I know what 'voulez-vous coucher avec moi' means. I also know what 'oui' or a slap across the face means. Really, that's all I need to know."

"Charlie…you cannot be serious. Your father is going to—"

"Meeks!" Charlie yelled. "How many times do I have to tell you: I don't give a fuck what my father thinks, okay? Can't you just be happy for me?"

"Happy that you're spreading your loins around Europe?"

"Yeah. What about that is there not to be happy about?"

"Please don't make me start listing all of the problems associated with manwhoreism."

Charlie groaned. "Fine. See, this is why you weren't invited. No fun sponges allowed."

"I'm not a fun sponge! I just like to think logically!"

"Just promise me one thing."

"What?"

"You'll ask your robot date 'voulez-vous coucher avec moi'."

Steven rolled his eyes and smiled slightly. "And to think…I was worried you'd been kidnapped by some gang."

"If she says 'oui', I've taught you well grasshopper."

"I'm trying to be serious here, Charlie."

"Don't forget to tag on 'ce soir' as well!"

"Good-bye Charles."

"Á bientôt, Meeksie."


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:** So...mjkittykat gave me the idea to expand on this...so it'll be expanded whenever I feel like it... :)

**Disclaimer:** I don't wanna say it...

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_You've reached Steven Meeks. I'm not able to reach the phone right now, but leave your name and number and I'll be sure to get back to you as soon as possible. If there's an emergency, call Gerard Pitts or the Science Department at Brown. I'll most likely be there. *beep*_

"This is Nuwanda. I'm not giving you my number in case my father somehow tracks down this message as a way to track down me; which isn't going to happen. Anyway, I found the perfect girl for you over here Meeksie. AND SHE'S NOT A ROBOT! Excited? I thought you would be. Also, S&M does not stand for Sex and Marshmallow-sauce as originally thought. If somebody offers or suggests S&M you need to run in the other direction and never look back. Never. Look. Back. And what a boring answering machine message. It should go something like _You've reached Meeks's love lair. I'm currently preoccupied luring co-eds into my sex dungeon, but leave your name, number, and favorite position, and I'll back to you when I need some satisfaction._ I think that would be a rather entertaining message for your mom to hear, don't you? If I had a nifty little answering machine like yours, it'd go something like—"

Steven snorted when Charlie's rambling prolonged the amount of time allowed on the answering machine. He rolled his eyes, about to reach over to delete the message, when the machine announced there was another message. Retracting his hand, Steven raised an eyebrow and stared down in curiosity. He didn't usually receive many phone calls.

"It cut me off. Anyway, as I was saying, if I had a nifty little answering machine like yours, my message would go something like this: You've reached the Nuwandanator! Leave me your name, a description of your face, your astrological sign, and whether or not you like long walks on the beach. But most importantly, you need to tell me how flexible you are. Signing off.

"Or does that sound too dumb? Because I have a few different ideas for when I actually do somehow get my own machine once my father cuts off my inheritance for ditching Harvard and traipsing all over France. Which—have I mentioned?—is awesome! Also, another good number for emergencies is 911 my friend. Just remember that, okay?"

Steven rolled his eyes, grinning to himself for a moment before staring in shock when the robo-lady informed him that yet another message was waiting. He groaned, running a hand over the top of his hair and removing his glasses to clean them on the hem of his sweater.

"And another thing!" Charlie's voice boomed from the tiny speaker. "Ha ha, got ya. Anyway, I'll call you in another few days, since I refuse to give you my number. I feel like one of those annoying girls that teases you by flirting but then won't give you her digits. Ugh. Luckily I'm able to avoid that in France because well…I don't ask for numbers. I ask for…better things." A slightly evil laugh erupted from the machine before the click of Charlie hanging up.

For once in his life, Steven wasn't worried about Charlie. He was worried about Charlie's conquests. 


End file.
